Storm Child
by Hex
Summary: A Ressurection fic. Voldemort is back and the remaining Marauders must find a way to destroy him or it's Harry who pays the price. But things are not always as they seem... NEW CHAPTER! Part 9 now up!
1. Stormy Night

****

Storm Child

AUTHOR: Hex

RATING: PG-13

WARNINGS: SLASH! RL/SB. Angst. Resurrection. Alcoholism.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, it is owned by the fabulous JKR and the not-as fabulous Bloomsbury and Scholastic.

NOTE: Yes we all know James and Lilly Potter are dead and we will never see them alive in the books but that is what fan fic is for, ne? Happy happy joy joy!

Thanks: None just yet but I like reviewers n.n

********

There was an explosion of lighting, setting fire to the sky all around and giving a brief artificial day to the dark shadows of the landscape. Wind whipped the rain up in torrents, throwing it in fist fulls against windowpanes and roofs, drumming an incessant downbeat. Fat drops of water fell to the earth with the force of tiny meteors, leaving fleeting craters in the earth until another bead washed it away. Shadows scratched at bedroom walls, clamouring for shelter from the storm beating just outside the curtains.

Against this backdrop of natural chaos another storm was raging. In front of a roaring fire a man sat, staring into the jumping flames as his mind wandered like a lost traveller across the plains of his memory. One tired hand held a glass of red wine, the final dregs from the empty bottle, dropped to the floor beside his chair. The other hand gripped the arm rest in a white knuckle hold, threatening to tear the fabric to shreds given half a chance. 

He raised the glass to his pale thin lips with trembling fingers and supped for a moment, translucent blue eyes reflecting the dancing flames as he continued to stare, unseeing. An alcohol induced glassiness glimmered in his eyes as his mind slurred it's way through the past to the present, recounting everything the man had gained and lost and regained again. Faces and events swam past his eyes like a home movie filmed out of focus, washing over his dulled senses. Long dead voices crashed like waves against his ears, roaring then quieting before exploding again.

His skin, pale and thin, was lent an unnatural glow by the fierce flames burning in the fireplace before him. His clothes hung to loose against his to slight frame, a sign of neglect and malnutrition. Too many nights sat in front of this fire, dead in memories and dumb in wine. Too many days left alone with the darkness of his mind and the beating of his anguished heart. To many memories of laugher and happiness in a time of pain, regret and sorrow. He was dead to this world, gone and forgotten by all he thought had cared.

He raised the glass again and drained it of it's crimson liquid, feeling it burn as it slid down his tear dried throat. The stinging pain reminded him he was alive. The stinging pain reminded him others were not.

He reached for the bottle again, only to find the table devoid of wine. He sighed and let his head drop against the back of the chair, staring for a long moment at the ceiling as he tried to remember how to walk. With shaking, awkward movements he stood and stumbled from his chair towards the kitchen door. He needed more wine. He needed help to forget what he could not ignore.

Outside, the storm continued its bellowing play, the crashing symphony of nature in pain.

*****

There was a shape here, a shadow moving with purpose across the night black scene towards the only glimmer of light. A house. 

This shape was not human. It's movements were too elegant, too smooth and too powerful to belong to a man. It's feet pounded the rain slicked mud, unheeding of the water soaking it's sleek black fur, ignoring the wind that chilled its bones.

In the flare of a lightening flash the shape was illuminated. It was a dog, massive and strong, covering the ground faster than was naturally possible for a beast of such mass. It's muzzle was soaked in rain and ooze and it's ferocious teeth were bared as a rumbling growl bubbled in it's throat. It's eyes were wide and savage, glaring despite the rain attacking them. An unnaturalness dwelt within them. An unnatural humanity.

Nothing about this dog suggested it was a child of nature. It seemed more like a demon, a spawn of this hellish storm sent to ravage all those who did not cower before it.

The house came into view now, standing alone on this isolated moor, a spot of civilisation marring natures otherwise unblemished glory. 

The dog put on a final burst of speed, tearing across the open land towards the prospect of warm shelter.

*****

The man stood in his kitchen, hands fumbling clumsily with the bottle opener as he tried to pry the cork from it's snug position in the neck of the wine bottle. The green vessel shifted in and out of focus as the man finally gave up and threw the opener against the far wall in frustration. It clattered into the sink, full of unwashed plates and scraps of moulded half eaten food.

Taking hold of the bottle, he picked up a large ceramic book end and brought it down hard on its neck, smashing it. Satisfied, he retrieved his glass and made to pour himself another shot of mind numbing wine.

A banging on the front door startled him and the bottle slipped from his fingers, shattering on the kitchen floor and sending wine everywhere but into the glass. The man cursed, dropping to his knee's and trying in vain to rescue his precious liquor.

When the banging did not stop, he lurched to his feet and staggered out into the hallway. Leaning heavily against the wall, he made his way down towards the door. He made a bumbling grope for the doorknob and got it on his third attempt. Wrenching the door open he glared at the cascade of rain outside. A slow frown creased his brow when he realised no one was there.

Something brushed past his legs and he looks down. It was a dog.

It made it's way into the living room and the man, drunkenly intrigued, closed the door and followed. The dog moved to stand by the fire, basking in the heat for a moment before turning it's lamp-like eyes on the mortal. In an instant the dog was replaced by a man, bearded and thin with a certain shaggy familiarity about him. The drunkard blinked stupidly and stumbled forward, seizing the back of his chair and screwing up his eyes, trying to counter the fuzziness of his vision.

The man-dog was speaking but the drunk could not make the words out. He just wanted more wine. Then he could sleep...

Sleep came too soon as his grip on the chair loosened and his legs went numb. Welcomed darkness rushed at his mind and he succumbed to it. In unconsciousness came the dreams of happier times. In sleep came release.

*****

R&R much appreciated!

I decided to have Remus (my drunk) drinking wine rather than whiskey or beer because I always envisioned him as a cultured and refined man, more likely to stock Burgundy than Guiness.

Ok I promise this *is* a resurrection fic but I wanted to build up another aspect of the plot. Remus! Did you all like it? I really hope so!

More soon!

Laters

Hex.


	2. Sunny Morning

****

Storm Child

AUTHOR: Hex

RATING: PG-13

WARNINGS: Angst. Slash. Alcoholism. Resurrection

DISCLAIMER: As standard

NOTE: I have no personal experience with Alcoholism but I have seen how it effects people. With that in mind please bare with me as this fic is an experiment more than anything else ^.^

THANKS: none

********

It was morning now and the sun shone dazzlingly bright on the rain soaked ground beneath it. Nature was waking, saturated in rain and ready to blossom new life. Birds sung their merry melodies to the clear blue summer sky as they rode the remnants of last nights winds through the crisp fresh air.

Sunlight poured through the windows of the house on the moor, directly onto the face of the drunkard man as he slept on his unmade bed, dressed in nothing but that which nature had given him.

Slowly, wakefulness came to him and heavy eyes were forced to open as heavy limbs moved to shield the sun from the worn thin face. His head was pounding and he felt bile rise in his throat but he choked it down. Forcing himself to sit, he looked around, trying to remember how he had made it to his room last night. It had been a long time since he had awoken here.

The door to his left opened and he turned to face the figure there. He blinked and opened his mouth to address the newcomer. No words came. Instead he found himself lent over the edge of the bed as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the bedroom carpet. 

The figure in the doorway left and by the time it returned with a cloth and stain remover, the drunkard was dry heaving at the stench of his own bile. Kindly, the newcomer pushed him back onto the bed and bent to clean the mess away. The drunk was breathing heavily, coughing every now and then as he attempted to regain control of his errant body.

The bed dipped suddenly as the figure sat on it and reached out to brush the drunks messy, unwashed hair from his face. 

"What have you been doing to yourself, Remus?"

The drunk could not reply. Now shame and humiliation were leaking into his brain and he struggled to move away from the kind voice and hands. He did not deserve sympathy, he was pathetic. A grown man, reduced to this.

He needed wine and the false confidence it gave.

"Come on." The kind voice said as hands gripped him and pulled him from the bed, helping him stand. "Lets get you into a nice hot bath."

A bath. A bath sounded so nice and welcoming...

Remus blinked.

One minute he had been staggering down the hallway with the newcomers aid and now he was sitting in a bath, heat seeping into his bones. A wash cloth was moving across his back of it's ow accord as a razor scrapped the coarse hair from his chin. 

His head still hurt, but whereas it had been pounding earlier now it simply throbbed. His vision had come back and he suddenly realised that his bathroom had changed. The last time he had been here the room had been as filthy as the rest of the house. The toilet had been blocked and overflowing and the sink and bath coated in a gelatinous layer of dirt and grime. Now, however, the entire room gleamed with sterile cleanliness.

"Remus."

He turned his head and took in the figure standing by the sink. He was tall and gave the impression of a thin man steadily gaining weight. His black hair was long and pulled back into a simply ponytail and his face was newly shaven. Deep brown eyes gazed at him with genuine concern and...something else.

It was a face he had not seen for a full year, a face his own drunk hazed mind had begun to doubt the existence of.

"Sirius."

Sirius Black moved away from the sink and came to kneel beside the tub, picking up a bottle of shampoo and pouring a liberal amount into his hand. "Close your eyes" was his whispered command and Remus complied, enjoying the feeling of Sirius's fingers threading through his hair and massaging his scalp as he spread the shampoo over his head. He shivered when a stream of water tumbled over him, washing the soap from him before Sirius repeated the gesture.

They remained in silence for a long time after that, as Sirius helped the still foggy and clumsy Remus to wash and dress. Now they were in the kitchen and Remus's tired eyes took in the empty sink and the sparkling clean surfaces. The room was almost unrecognisable to him now.

"You cleaned." He said simply, watching Sirius move around the room preparing some sort of meal. He could smell bacon and it made his empty stomach growl with inpatients.

"I had too, you were certainly in not fit state to do so."

"H-how long have you _been_ here?"

"Two days." Sirius said, putting the bacon, egg and toast onto a plate and placing it in front of Remus. "You slept the entire time."

"Oh." Was all he could think to say, as he picked up the fork and began to shovel food ravenously into his mouth.

After a moment, Sirius placed a mug of coffee before him and sat down opposite to watch his friend eat. "How long has this been going on, Remus?"

"How long has what been going on?" He asked, his mouth full of food as he reached for the coffee.

"All of this! This place was a mess when I arrived!"

"Oh. That." He swallowed. "I just haven't had much time to clean. Research you know."

"Research into what? How much can one man drink before he kills himself!?"

"Relax Sirius, I can take care of myself."

"Forgive me fore saying I've seen evidence to the contrary."

Sighing, Remus stood and made his was to the refrigerator. He opened it and stuck his head inside. A moment later he pulled it out again, frowning. "Where has all of my wine gone?"

"I poured it down the sink."

"_What_!? You had no right to do that!"

"I had every right!" Sirius replied angrily, standing up and going to stand directly before his friend. "Take a look at yourself Remus, you're a mess!"

"It's none of your business how I look anymore Sirius! You had no right to interfere with my life! What are you doing here anyway!?"

Suddenly Sirius seemed to deflate and he moved to sit back at the table again. He sat for a moment with his head in his hands, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "Dumbledore sent me." He whispered, shaking, as Remus took his seat opposite again. "He told me to hide out here until he sends for us."

"Sends for us? What happened? Is Harry...!?"

"He's fine. As fine as he is going to be for a while, anyway. It was that _stupid_ tournament!"

"What? What happened?"

"I..He..Harry..."

"Sirius? I thought you said Harry was alright?"

"He is." Sirius replied shakily. "He managed to escape, heaven knows how. He's back, Remus."

"Who is?"

"V...V..._Him_."

"_Who_?"

"_Voldemort_!"

*****

R&R please!

Oh the happy happy shortness of my parts! I promise, there _will_ be ressuretion, and Remus is so _not_ recovered from the drinking thing. Gomen for the length!

Laters

Hex.


	3. Fear, Anger and Stories

****

Storm Child

Author: Hex

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: As Standard

****

ANNOUNCEMENT: Due to the resent 'decisions' made by FF.Net admin, this will be my last post on this site as I am boycotting. Please visit my site ( www.angelfire.com/anime3/hex ) for updates from now on.

Notes: Now actual plot, joy! (Why is it i only ever want to write when there is something ELSE I am meant to be doing?)

Warnings: Alcoholism, Slash (RL/SB) Resurrection, Angst, slightly evil Remus (he won't be a DE, promise!)

Dedication: Hermione (followed by a number but I can't remember which right now) and Nirva, my two sole reviewers.

********

Remus stood up so fast he knocked his chair to the floor with a bang that made them both jump. He was shaking from head to foot, staring at Sirius with the eyes of a hunted man.

"H-how? _How can he be back_!?"

Sirius looked away, his hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. "It was Peter. That little bastard performed some stupid ritual and...The net result is he's back and as powerful as ever."

Remus sank into another chair, still shaking like a leaf in a storm. "It can't be true..."

"Harry saw it with his own eyes, Remus."

"_He was there_!?"

Sirius nodded. "I told you, it was that damned Tournament. He won it by the way."

"I can't believe it...I don't _want _too believe it..."

"Dumbledore sent me here...He seemed to think it was better you heard about this from a friend."

"What...What action are the Ministry going to take?"

Sirius snorted. "None, of course. The official line is that Dumbledore is off his rocker, that he just wants to scare people. No one wants it to be true, Remus, so they're going to hide from it."

"They can't hide from _him_." Remus said, looking out of the window at the clear sky above, his voice shaking as much as his body. "No one can. He destroys everything in his path. No one was ever powerful enough to stop him...We were stupid to hope...Back then...And we'd be stupid to hope now."

"What are you saying?"

When Remus turned back his eyes were wide, the whites showing all the way around. He looked maddened. "Why bother fighting, Sirius? It will only lead to more p-pain. More suffering. We could end it if we joined him!"

Now it was Sirius's turn to leap up so fast his chair fell over. His face was white with total shock as he stared at Remus. "What the hell are you saying!? Join him?! He _killed_ more people than I can count! People we knew! He killed Lilly and James!"

"I know!" Remus all but screamed, gripping the edge of the table and staring up at the man looming above him with insanity glowing in his eyes. "Even they were no match for him, Sirius! What hope to we have!?"

The punch came so hard and so suddenly that it caught Remus totally off guard and sent him tumbling to the floor, nose bleeding and possibly broken.

"You would betray them? Our friends memory? All those that have helped you? You would betray Harry?"

Remus was not to be cowed, however. "Don't you bring him into this...You know how much pain it causes me to think of him...So like James...He's just a _boy_, what chance does he have? We could give him happiness!"

"By helping the man who wants nothing more than to kill him?"

"By ending his suffering!"

It took a moment for the full meaning of this statement to sink in. Stunned, Sirius backed up until his back hit the kitchen counter. He stared at his friend whose face was soaked in blood as he stared at him with insane joy. "You mean...Kill him?"

"He'd be with his family! He'd be happy. I only want him to be happy." Remus slumped back to the floor, clutching his knees to his chest and rocking slightly. "This world only holds pain. There _has_ to be something better...They _have_ to be somewhere better..."

He jumped when Sirius knelt beside him and put an arm across his shoulders. "Remus...I _know_ Lilly and James are happy, wherever they are. But I also know they would want you to _protect_ Harry, not send him to them so soon."

They sat like that in silence for what felt like hours, Remus crying softly as Sirius tried with all his might to comfort his forlorn friend.

__

What has happened to you Remus? When did you become like this? You have been alone in this house for too long, to be having such thoughts.

Do you miss James and Lilly that much? Did you miss me when I was gone from you? Oh that I caused you such pain, my friend...

Darkness descended upon the house on the moor but still they did not move from their place on the cold kitchen floor.

Devastation. That was Voldemort's calling card. He had yet to make a move against the Wizarding world and yet his mere existence was enough to reduce a grown man to this. The mere mention of his name was enough to send thousands into spasms of despair.

__

I will kill you, Voldemort. Before you have chance to take hold once again, I will kill you. To protect Harry. To protect Remus. To protect their memory. You will_ die._

*****

It is a strange fact of the universe that stories, however complex and drawn out they may be, all hold one fundamental thing in common. They are all tales of struggle.

In stories of old, Knights fought evil dragons to free the beautiful maiden. In tales even older, powerful wizards were brought to their downfall by one mans quest to free his people and rescue the Princess.

Behind every good story, there is a girl.

There was a girl behind this story as well. But this story, this girl, were different. 

The hero fought, as all Hero's do, night and day to keep her safe until all his strength was gone and he could fight no more. As his power failed, the story began to change. The girl shook of her chains and took up his sword and turned to face their evil. 

And she was well matched to it, for in her heart beat...Something. There was no name for it. Some called it, Valour, others, Love, Passion and Honour. But these qualities do not make a true Hero. Only one thing makes a Hero.

*****

There was a storm tonight. It raged outside the window like the anger of the gods, thrown to earth. Rain attacked the ground, washing it clean as lightening lit the scene like the strike of a villains match.

From inside the safety of his home, a boy watched.

This boy was a boy unlike any other. This boy had seen and done things no other boy had ever done before. This boy had the makings of a true Hero.

And yet fate had resigned him to the simple category of 'sidekick'.

Ronald Weasley was, indeed, a boy like no other. There was no other boy whose best friend was faced, every day, with choices which could determine the fate of millions. It was a fact which lay heavily on the youngest Weasley son every day.

Would today be the day? The last day of his best friends life?

For the past five weeks, Ron had worried over the state of his friend. It was not that he worried for his safety, Harry often assured him in his letters that he was fine. It was the state of the boys mind which worried Ron. He knew Harry had taken Voldemort's rise very hard, however much he tried to hide it.

To make things worse, Dumbledore flatly refused to allow Harry to spend the remainder of the summer at The Burrow. 

Ron could tell he was not the only one worried about Harry Potter. Mrs Weasley seemed to be forever sending him parcels of goodness-knew what and Mr Weasley was also sending him letters with the family owl, Errol. Even the twins, Fred and George, seemed strangely subdued.

Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Weasley sons, had left the Burrow shortly before the end of term and then returned a week or two later, having quit their jobs. Now they, like Mr Weasley, seemed to be making frequent visits to Hogwarts.

However the thing which worried Ron the most was not the state of his family, it was the fact that, whenever he entered the room, everyone stopped talking and would look at him guiltily. His mother compounded this feeling of being out of the loop by subjecting him to spontaneous hugs all the time.

The storm was quieten now and Ron moved away from the window and clambered back into his bed, pulling the bright orange blankets up over his head to block out the distant thunder. 

What was it everyone but him seemed to know?

*****

Oh aren't they nasty to poor ikkle Ronnie-kins? **Snigger**

'When oh when is the Resurrection gonna happen' I hear you cry. (Or is that just the voices in my head?) Never fear, the next part (available on my website ( www.angelfire.com/anime3/hex ) as soon as EO updates!) brings out the main plot.

Yay!

R&R Greatly appreciated!

Laters

Hex


	4. The Burrow

****

Storm Child

AUTHOR: Hex

RATING: PG-13

WARNINGS: Angst. Slash. Alcoholism. Resurrection.

DISCLAIMER: As standard

NOTE: Bah, FF.Net sucks! Anyway, as promised here is part four of Storm Child, exclusive (for now) to this site.

NOTE: I have moved to Cardiff and now work in a local school as a CSV Volunteer...Wales is fun! I 

need to go shopping though, I have no food and no lamp ^.^;;

THANKS: My roomies for leaving me alone long enough for me to finish this n.n;

********

After what had seemed like an eternity on that cold kitchen floor, Remus had fallen asleep and Sirius had put him to bed. Now he sat by an open window in a shaft of clear moonlight, gazing up at the three quarter moon shining down upon him. The figure on the bed behind him worried him. What had happened to make Remus believe that killing Harry was the right thing for the boy?

He had to get his Werewolf friend away from this isolated house and back into civilisation. But where could he take him? Remus had only ever felt truly accepted in three places his whole life.

The first was, of course Hogwarts. Not an option seeing as it was closed for the holidays.

The second was the apartment he and Sirius had shared after they had graduated school and entered the Ministry. Again, not an option, other people were probably living their now.

The last option was Godrics Hollow, where Lilly and James had lived after their marriage. But the house had been destroyed in Voldemort's attack and, even now, lay in ruins as a constant reminder of his awesome power.

And now he was back, ready to reduce even more homes to rubble.

Dragging his thoughts back from the cusp of rage once again, Sirius closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think. Where could he possibly take him? It would have to be somewhere where people knew the truth about Voldemort's return and his innocence. Was their such a place?

Then it struck him. At first he was unwilling to consider the option, having no real connection with those in question. Then he chanced the glance at the recumbent figure on the bed behind him, snoring softly. He could not risk leaving Remus alone and he certainly could not allow him to stay in the house a moment longer than necessary.

Not for the first time, he wished Remus's house was connected to the Floo Network. Being a wanted criminal he could not risk Apparating, the Ministry were surly monitoring all Apparating activity closely. Alas it was not to be, they would have to take the Muggle way.

Leaving his post by the window, Sirius made his way down through the house and outside towards the separate garage. Opening the unlocked door he stared at the vehicle sitting under a tarpaulin.

Lilly's old car.

He remembered the first time he, James, Remus and Peter had ridden in it, shortly after Lilly got her license in their Seventh year. He remembered how amazed they had all been that the thing ran on gas rather than magic. In fact, they had been amazed the thing ran at all, considering Lilly's dubious driving skills.

He wondered why Remus still had the thing, considering neither of them could drive.

Still, James had made a few 'modifications' to the car, which was why it was in Remus's possession and not in storage like everything else the Potters had owned, waiting for Harry to reach eighteen so as he could sign for them. If the Ministry ever found out about this car, Remus would be in a whole heap of trouble. It was the one possession from which James' own brand of mischievous magic could not be removed.

Still, it was all they had so it would have to do. He pulled the tarp off of the car and stashed it in the trunk before stepping back to survey the car once again. It still had the dent on the hood from the cyclist Lilly had hit.

Sirius shook his head, smiling.

Worst Driver Ever.

*****

~Story Hijacking In Process~

Lookit, lookit! My first mention of the Potters pre-death. I like to think of Lilly as a 'free-spirit' generally so I thought she would have to be a lousy driver, simply to fit in with her personality in my head. 

Also never fear, the slash is coming soon!

~We now return you to your regularly scheduled story~

*****

Life at The Burrow these days was considerably more sedate than usual. The bangs from the twins room, however loud, were much less frequent and seemed very contrived. The Ghoul in the attic was working overtime trying to liven the house up when it got too quiet and even Mrs Weasley's chickens seemed much less energetic. (Why on earth do they have chickens at The Burrow!?)

The once lively and bustling house had lost whatever life it had once possessed.

Bill Weasley sat in the back garden, soaking up some late summer sun and thinking about the past. Being the second eldest son, Bill could still remember vividly the time Voldemort had been in power. 

Bill had been ten years old when Voldemort had finally fallen to Harry Potter, and was preparing to start his first year at Hogwarts the next September. He had spent much of his youth inside the house, his mother to afraid to let him out for fear of what would happen to him. He remembered meeting numerous Aurors and Unmentionables which had come to the house to speak with his father.

He remembered the vow he had made one night when he was seven. He had been unable to sleep due to a nightmare and had gone downstairs to find his parents. They had been sitting by the fire and his parents had been crying. His mothers best friend had been killed by Death Eaters. His mothers best friend and his fathers sister.

Standing on the stairs then, in a night shirt and clutching a ratty old teddy bear William Weasley had made a silent vow.

I will grow strong. I will fight. I will not _fall. My parents will not cry for me or mine._

He had started Hogwarts with that vow still imprinted upon his mind. It had paid off as well and he had become Head Boy. But by the time he had left school, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were no more than a terrible memory and so he had taken his vast knowledge of curses and gone to work for Gringotts. 

Now he was back and Bill had a decision to make. Dumbledore had offered him a position on a team whose job it would be to hunt down and bring in - alive where possible - all known Death Eaters and to deal with whatever Voldemort may throw at them. It was dangerous work and his mother was very much against the idea of her son being in the front lines as it were.

Was this the sort of choice those who joined Muggle wars had to make? Family or your way of life?

Had he not spent his entire academic life, trying to become strong enough to fight? Was this not his dream, to make sure his parents never cried again? Now it came down to it, was this what he wanted?

"Bill?"

Bill turned in his seat to face Ron, who was standing in the doorway holding two glasses of something cold. His youngest brother approached him, holding out a glass. "Something wrong, Bill?"

"Nah, what makes you think there is?"

"Well, everyone just seems a little...I dunno...Distracted, lately."

"Yeah well, a lot's happened, ain't it?"

"Yeah. Bill, can I ask you something?"

"Sure kid, shoot."

"Well...Why do you, dad and Charlie keep...keep...Is that a flying car?"

Bill turned his gaze towards the sky. There, coming in low across the fields was a vintage Mustang car. (Mustang is about the only make of car I know ^.^;;) "Did Fred and George steal dads car again?"

"No." Ron replied, still staring. "They're in their room, I was with them a minute ago."

"It's coming in pretty fast isn't it..."

"...Yeah." They sat in silence for a moment, watching the car approach.

"I think..." Bill said ponderously, "that we should run."

They only just managed to get clear as the car crashed loudly into the sun lounger Bill had been sitting on, crushing it.

It took a moment for the dust to settle and the rest of the Weasley clan to assemble before Sirius kicked his door open and fell into an undignified heap on the floor, muttering a few choice swear words as he went. The passenger door opened more sedately and Remus stepped out, staring up at The Burrow as he said; "I thought you knew how to drive."

"I never said that." Sirius replied, pulling himself to his feet. "I never said I could drive, I just said I would."

"You're an idiot."

"I know."

*****

~Story Hijacking In Process~

Yeah I know, I'm hijacking again. It's just occurred to me that this is a four part Harry Potter fic with no Harry Potter in it. I should rectify the situation.

I should.

I'm not gonna...

~We now return you to your regularly scheduled story~

*****

"They have gone to the Weasley's," said a sneering voice from somewhere within the deep shadows of the cavernous room. "They are seeking shelter there."

"That will makes this difficult." Came a second voice. "It will make their deaths harder to cover up."

"Why must we cover them up?" Came a third voice, shaking with excitement. "We should let the world know we have returned!"

"Don't be a fool!" Snapped the first voice angrily. "What would be the point in that? Would you have those bungling Auroras hunt us down like dogs? They will not care if the werewolf and the murderer turn up dead without witnesses. Only that fool Dumbledore will care."

"Dumbledore is many things." Said the second voice, coolly. "But he is not a fool. You would do well not to underestimate his intelligence and power."

"Power?" Laughed the first. "What power does he have? He cannot fight our Master, he is just an old man who sways impressionable young minds through mystery and awe."

"It amazed me how you have survived within the ranks of He Who Must Not Be Named this long, Malfoy. Your arrogance will be your undoing. The Master has put me in charge of this operation. We will go tonight, the werewolf and the murderer will die, witnesses or not witnesses."

*****

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin sat on one side of the long kitchen table in The Burrow with Mr and Mrs Weasley sitting directly opposite them, concerned looks on their faces. The Weasley children had been sent to their rooms where, even now, four of them were frantically penning letters to The Boy Who Lived.

"So we were wondering if we could stay here until the new school year starts and we can seek Dumbledore's...Advice."

Remus was glaring hard at the table top, his face burning with shame. Why did Sirius have to tell these people he drank? So what? It stopped the pain, at least for a little while, where was the harm in that?

Mrs Weasley was nodding hard. "Of course, of course. You can stay in Ron's room. Arthur, tell Ron to move his things down to Fred and George's room."

"Molly, dear-"

"Arthur!"

"Yes dear." He disappeared upstairs. Sirius wondered if the man always had that terrified look on his face or if it was just the presence of a 'murderer' and a werewolf in his home.

"It will be a full moon soon...Is there somewhere..." He left the question hanging in the air.

"Of course." Mrs Weasley said, standing up. "We can put some wards up in the paddock at the back of the garden, keep him in..."

"Mrs Weasley?" Sirius said carefully, as the elder woman began to move around the kitchen, apparently preparing a meal of some description. "Have you heard from Harry at all this summer?"

"Hmm? Yes, of course. He usually sends Ron a letter or two a week."

"Oh."

There was a pause then: "You haven't heard from him then?"

"No. I just thought Hedwig may be...It's not important."

Mrs Weasley gave him an affectionate smile. "He's got a lot on his mind, that one. I think Dumbledore is right, we should just leave him be."

"Yes. It is for the best I suppose. I just wish I knew he was alright."

*****

~Story Hijacking in Process~

I know these hijackings must be annoying but just think, at least it means this part isn't finished yet! I know a lot of their arrival at the Weasley's was glossed over but I wanna get to the plot, Damnit!

~We now return you to your regularly scheduled story~

*****

It was night now, Remus Lupin lay in bed awake, staring up at the ceiling where members of the Chudley Cannons were zooming silently over his head. He knew why he was here, Sirius was worried that if they were alone something would happen. Something bad.

What did Sirius think he was going to do? Jump him? He had gotten over his feelings for Padfoot a long time ago. He had been able to attend Harry's Christening without any problems at all. They had been _friends_ again, it had been nice.

Then Sirius had been arrested and Remus had been left, alone, believing that his former lover had been responsible for the deaths of two of their closest friends. That thought had slowly begun to drive him insane.

He had suspected, two years ago, when Dumbledore had offered him the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, that he had done so to keep an eye on him. Even then he had known he was out of control. He had begun spending time with a group of rogue werewolves, trashing bars and drinking himself into an early grave. 

His year at Hogwarts had been wonderful, he'd felt as though he was coming home after a long vacation. Then he had lost his job and been plunged back into despair.

Was Dumbledore's sending Sirius to him just another attempt of the old Headmaster to guide him back onto the safe path? Well if it was he knew where he could stick his 'good intentions'.

Stumbling slightly and fuelled by self-righteous anger, Remus hauled himself from the bed and left Ron's room. He was impressed with himself that he managed to make it downstairs without waking anyone and, feeling very claustrophobic all of a sudden, made his way to the kitchen door and let himself out, into the back garden.

Moonlight hit him in full force and he turned his face to the sky, smelling the primal magic on the wind.

"Well well well. I _never_ thought you make it this easy."

Then there was black.

*****

Be proud, it's long! Long I tell you! LOOOONG! 2543 words! YAY!

Nope, to tired, got nothing else to say.

R&R Required (Sign the reviewers Guestbook!)

Laters

Hex


	5. Capture

****

Storm Child

Author: Hex

Rating: PG-13 for language

Disclaimer: As Standard

Note: (1) Antidisestablishmentarianism is the longest word in the English language and means: "The system of belief of any person who is opposed to those who want to destroy a standable thing which someone made stand." Basically, it's complicated and impressive sounding. (Anti-dis-establishment-tarian-ism)

(2) I don't have my copy of the books with me so I don't know if that is spelt correctly.

Thanks: http://www.marlboro.edu/~jfarber/sta/antidisestablishmentarianism.html --- The only website to give me a definition of this damn word! Is it stupid to want to thank JKR for getting her finger out of her arse and finishing book 5?

********

Who are you? I can see you there, within the darkness shining back at me like the light from a lantern. I see you so far away and yet can feel hot rancid breath upon my neck. Are you my demon?

Not a demon. A memory then? Taunting me from the depths of a feverish mind with things which might have been.

Oh cruel and twisted fate, that wrenched all happiness from me within the blink of an eye. With the utterance of only two words all was lost into the fettered pit of memory. 

Light shines in through that darkness, the glimmer of the moon upon the blade of a knife sharpened to within an inch of it's life, paper thin and razor sharp like my personal hell.

I feel it's cold heat burning into my skin and blink blood shot eyes up into a masked face which swims in and out of focus before me.

My throat is dry and constricted but I force out words passed trembling and parched lips.

"A knife? Doesn't that lack a certain ... glamour." The figure above me was one of Them. A Death Eater.

"I could use glamour and make your death a spectacular one, or I could make sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that you die."

I blink again, trying to force my brain and eyes to focus. My head was pounding again and I knew only one truth. One glass of wine would make it all so clear.

"Look at yourself Lupin, you're pathetic."

"I know who you are." Of course I knew, it was so obvious.

"Yes, I know you do. And so you'll know how much I am going to _hate_ doing this." The masked figure leans in very close and whispers in my ear, his breath burning me. "I'm going to pull back to kill you, kick me and I will do the rest."

I blink but I understand. It's his job, isn't it, to protect the interests of the weak and ignorant. I hate him and yet pity him. How pathetic, the pity of a drunk on a man forced to kill for a cause he does not believe in.

He pulls back from me and raises the knife. I raise a leg to kick him off...

But he is frozen above me, the knife gone from his hand. A second figure in a cloak of midnight blue which falls almost to the floor and the hood pulled up to cover my saviours face holds him still, the knife to his throat. Anger radiates from this figure, it is trembling with it.

"That is _not_ going to happen you evil little git."

The knife is pressing so hard against the suddenly exposed throat that a thin line of crimson blood trickles to the ground. My attacker is breathing heavily, clouds forming in front of his masked face laced with fear.

"You've killed to many people, I won't let you take another life."

I watch the cloaked figure pull back his hand with a flourish to kill the other and before I can speak, a gloved hand catches the wrist of the first. My eyes take in a shrouded figure in moss green. The curve of the cloth tells me this one is female and she appears to be gazing sympathetically at the first.

"Don't become like them." Her voice is lilting and has a certain musical quality to it. It washes over me like a forgotten lullaby and I try to resist the temptation to curl up and sleep.

The first growls and throws the Death Eater to the ground, taking the opportunity to kick him before he scrambles to his feet. He looks at me and I shrug. He leaves.

My saviour offers me a hand and I use it to pull myself to shaky feet. I can not even remember why I came outside now. Perhaps the moon was calling to me or perhaps fate was lending me a hand. Either way I was here now before these two figures.

I feel my head become suddenly light and know unconsciousness is waiting for me. I let my legs give out and am surprised when I fail to hit the dirt. I look up to see a familiar face peering down at me with concern.

I reach up one sweating and shaking hand and touch that jet black hair. I am vaguely aware that I am smiling.

"Harry..." 

Cold darkness consumes me.

*****

The first cloaked figure stared down at the limp body in it's arms. His hood had fallen off when he had made to catch the werewolf. Now moonlight glinted from his glasses and gave a white glow to the tips of his black hair.

"Remus? Remus?"

"He's just passed out." The female said, crouching beside her companion and checking his burden for injuries. "He's not hurt. Maybe it was the shock?"

"Moony's not the sort of guy who passes out just because he's attacked. Maybe he's sick?"

"He is a little hot." The female conceded.

"How can you tell through gloves?"

"Shut it."

The first figure peered down at the prone form curiously. "He called me Harry you know, right before he passed out. Why do you suppose he did that?"

"He's feverish, he was just rambling."

"I guess... Should we take him in the house? He left the door open..."

"Alright, but then we have to leave."

The man hefted Remus up and staggered slightly under his weight. "He's heavy for a thin bloke." Slowly, they made their way back into The Burrow and lay Remus down on the scrubbed kitchen table.

"Let's go."

"Do we have too?"

The woman sighed and moved to stand in front of her companion and took his face between her hands. "James...We can't stay...We can't face them for what we did..."

"But they won't hold it against us, surely? They'll be so happy to see we're alive they might forget all about Harry-"

"Maybe, to begin with but they would remember eventually. It doesn't change the fact that we let our own son die."

James hung his head, letting out a deep sigh. "I suppose you're right..."

"Is there someone down there? I warn you, I'm armed!"

"Shit!"

Both figures only had time to turn before Mr Weasley emerged at the foot of the stairs, wand raised at the ready with Bill and Mrs Weasley behind him.

For an eternity the five of them stood totally frozen, the Weasley's eyes riveted on James' exposed face their shock more than evident.

It was his companion who broke the silence. "Ignore us. A couple of dead people just passing through."

It was Mrs Weasley who knocked them both out.

*****

It could never be said that Lillian Mary Potter was a morning person. Well, it could be said but it would be a total lie. This was also true for when she woke up to find herself trussed like a turkey to her husband on a strangers kitchen floor.

Of course her mood was not helped by the terrible surge of fear that pounded through her the moment she regained consciousness. For one thing she could not actually _see_ her husband. What she _could_ see was the business end of someone's wand.

For a moment, images from disjointed nightmares flashed in her mind. Her home in ruins and the bodies Transfigured into the Potters exact replicas laying dead on the floor. The huge hulking figure of Rubeus Hagrid lifting her sons broken body from the wreckage while Sirius Black sobbed over what he thought was James' corpse. Her husbands gaunt face as he led her away, tears flowing freely. That same face wreathed in shadow as they made the decision which had changed their very lives.

No one must know they had not died that night. No one must know that all they had left to protect their only child while they went out for a romantic meal were a couple of corpses under a Puppet Curse. No one must know they were the reason little Harry had been murdered.

So they had left the Wizarding world for the Muggle one and had gotten normal Muggle jobs and tried their hardest to forget.

There was no forgetting, however, how could they forget what they had done?

Someone was speaking to her, banishing those gut churning thoughts for now at least.

"I said, who are you?"

The eldest man was speaking, pointing his wand at her and shaking from head to foot. Other people had joined them now, she noticed. There were three boys and a young girl standing on the other side of the kitchen table dressed in pyjamas and flanked by two older boys. All of them had flaming red hair.

She turned her head to the side, ignoring her captor for now to try to find James. After a little bit of wriggling she managed to turn enough to find him still unconscious behind her. He was not alone however.

Very slowly, she looked up the bedraggled and thin body into the haunted eyes of Sirius Black.

"Hey, long time no see Siri-" 

SMACK.

She turned her head to minimise the pain but the slap still stung like hell making her cheek feel as though it was one fire. He had hit her. Sirius Black, her husbands closest friend had hit her! Ok, so he did think she was dead and probably thought she was impersonating herself but still... He was _so_ going to pay for that one later.

She flexed her jaw, wincing. "That hurt-"

"Stop it! _Stop sounding like her_! She's dead! Stop looking like her or so help me I'll -"

"You'll what?" Lilly snarled in reply, annoyed. "Hit me again? Does hitting defenceless women make you feel like a big man, Sirius? Resorting to brute force as always, you haven't changed a _bit_."

"How would _you_ know, Deatheater!?"

Lilly glared at him, an angry fire in her eyes. She said nothing however just sat in total silence, her cheek burning.

"Mr Black, please calm down..."

Lilly turned her eyes on a plump red headed woman who stood backed against a stove, staring with wide and tired eyes at the bound couple on the floor. Lilly had a terrible feeling that she was going to be getting a lot more of those fearful looks before all of this was over.

"Who _are _all you people?" She asked in an attempt to change the subject.

Sirius' foot lashed out and caught Lilly's leg. "Shut up!"

"Sirius, stop it!" For the first time since Lilly had been revived, Remus had spoken. He was pale and thin and looked very ill, like he was ready to pass out again at any moment. She wondered when he had woken up and how long she had been out. "Sirius, hurting her won't help up ascertain who she is."

Using 'ascertain' in a sentence? Remus had not changed either. He was the only person Lilly knew who could use Antidisestablishmentarianism (1) in a sentence. Still this did not make up for the fact that, as a reward for saving him they had been stunned and tied up on someone's kitchen floor.

"Look, just revive my husband ok? He'll be far more cooperative than me."

"Meaning?" Sirius sneered, fingering the wand in his hands in a creepily loving way.

"Meaning I won't cooperate." It certainly seemed that Sirius was not as sharp on the uptake as he had once been.

Sirius scowled at her then stalked around out of her line of sight. 

"_Evenerate_." (2)

She felt James move against her back and sought out his hands with hers, squeezing them as he came awake.

"Muh? Wha happen?" He was still a little fuzzy in the head she noticed but that would not last long. The fear would kick in soon. She closed her eyes and braced herself.

It took them a full ten minutes to calm James down after he realised their position. His captivity, his inability to see his wife and an overwhelming surge of fear had brought back memories he had fought fourteen years to banish. In the end, they had been forced to release them both and force them into kitchen chairs, keeping a watch over them with wands drawn. The presence of so many armed strangers all with such fierce looks on the faces had done little to calm James but he had forced himself to relax, clutching Lilly's hand like it was his only life line.

Now they sat at the kitchen table as Sirius paced impatiently back and forward in front of them. Just behind him, the eldest of the red headed strangers was throwing a pinch of floo powder into a newly lit fire.

"Albus Dumbledore."

"Shit." Lilly mumbled. The last thing they needed right now was a reprimand from their former Headmaster. Goodness knew what he thought of them now. Doubtless he knew the truth, he always did. She could not bare the thought of seeing the anger, disappointment and recrimination in his usually kind eyes.

There was a 'pop' from the fire place and a long missed voice filled Lilly's ears.

"Ah, Arthur, what a pleasant surprise. Is something amiss?"

"Good evening Professor Dumbledore. I am sorry to bother you so late but there has been an...incident here."

"What seems to be the problem?"

As one Sirius and Mr Weasley moved aside, giving Lilly a clear view of the bearded face hovering in the green flames a mere nine feet away.

There was a moment of silence which seemed to drag on for eternity as clear blue eyes flittered between the Potters, shock quite readily shown. 

"I shall be with you directly."

*****

R&R please!

It's long! Ah I impress myself ^.^;

Laters

Hex.

2413 words! WAHOO!


	6. Professor Dumbledore

****

Storm Child

Author: Hex

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: As Standard

Notes: (1) We don't know where James is really from so I decided Grimsby was as good a place as any, right? Plus it has a funky name. This exchange is also a comment on the increasing influence American culture has on British lives, but mainly it's a Grimsby joke ^.^

(2) '_hyoscyamine_, when given even in moderate doses causes, among other symptoms, delirium, near blindness, and unbearable pain. Mixtures containing extracts of Mandrake and Datura which would have had similar effects, were administered to suspected witches prior to torture.' Isn't Google just a font of knowledge?

Notes: I went a bit silly when it came to the James/Lilly exchanges I'll admit, but they were fun to write and the two do get off topic quite a bit in this as it continues!

Author Note: I was sort of proud of Dumbledore in this part. This is the first time we scratch his 'Dark side' which we will be seeing much more of as this fic goes on. I adore DD, he rules!

Thanks: Google, it rocks! In other words, I can't think of anyone.

********

James Potter shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Professor Dumbledore's head disappeared from the fire. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he would not be surprised if it tore free of his ribcage altogether. His palms were sweating as well. How many times had he envisioned this moment? This longed for reunion.

Never, however, had his fantasies included being tied to a chair.

Well...not _this_ fantasy anyway.

Reluctantly, he tore his eyes from the innocently crackling fire to scan the room. From the outside the house had seemed ramshackle and rundown and from the inside it seemed no different. It was cluttered with a variety of objects ranging from pictures of family members to crystal figurines asleep in their cabinet. It was the clutter of a busy and loving family.

Man he hated families, with their smug happiness and children who hadn't died in horrific attacks in their homes.

His eyes also noticed a few oddities dotted about the room. Such as an entire side board covered in what looked like plugs in assorted states of dissection. What kind of nut case took apart plugs!?

Finishing his tour of the room he turned to scan the family itself. Almost immediately he noticed one of them - the youngest boy by the looks of him - was staring at him with a mixture of anxiety and elation. Not really the emotions he expected to see on someone who had never even met him before.

Before he had a chance to dwell on this fact, he heard Lilly speak.

"You know, you didn't have to call the Headmaster. I'm sure we could have sorted this out by ourselves. With a few well placed memory charms." She muttered the last part under her breath but, unfortunately, Sirius heard her.

"Oh yes, I'm sure you would just love for us to forget we ever saw you. Well I can tell you this, Death Eater, I may have failed the _real_ Potters but I won't let you get your slimy hands on Harry."

James' head snapped up at the mention of their sons name. He did not have chance to pursue the case however, as a knock sounded from the front door. The eldest red head hurried to answer it and they heard voices in the hallway. Not just Professor Dumbledore's voice either.

"What did he bring McGonagall for!?" Lilly hissed, looking pale and scared.

"I don't know. Can we lose points for this?"

"...Ok James, you do know we left Hogwarts don't you?" Sirius' foot lashed out and caught Lilly on the leg, making her glare at him. "You are _so_ lucky I am tied to this chair Black."

Professor Dumbledore chose now to make his appearance, thereby ending the argument.

He stood for a moment outlined in the doorway, staring at the pair on the chairs before him. The silence was unbearable.

"I'd get up" James said. "But I'm a little tied up at the moment."

"So I see." He advanced further into the room, Professor McGonagall trailing along behind him, fury plain on her face. Much to his private amusement, James found himself slipping into what Remus had once referred to as one of his 'McGonagall stupors' which he had once had a tendency to adopt whenever he was caught in the act as it were. "Arthur, if you wouldn't mind I think it is best we do this privately. Could you take the children upstairs please?"

"Of course Professor." Both the parents began to herd their children up the stairs. Beside him, Lilly began to panic.

"Private!? Private!? There's no need for private! Oh Gods I'm going to die!"

"Way to keep a cool head, Lill." James muttered, shaking his head.

"Oh stop pretending to be American! You come from Grimsby!" (1)

"I'm not pretending to be American."

"You started a sentence with 'way.'"

"It's how people talk!"

"If they're from New York!"

A cough from the Hogwarts Headmaster drew them back from their cultural debate. Lilly flushed with embarrassment and gave Dumbledore one of her trademark 'I know you love me really' looks. Dumbledore ignored her and turned his attention to Sirius.

"Would you mind waiting upstairs with Mr and Mrs Weasley please, Sirius." It was not a question but then with Dumbledore, it rarely was.

Still angry, Sirius took Remus by the arm and steered him from the room. 

When they were gone, Professor Dumbledore removed his emerald green cloak and draped it across the tabletop. Silently he pulled a chair up to the table directly across from the Potters and sat. Behind him, Professor McGonagall removed her own cloak and, from a pocket produced a small pouch of black velvet which she lay in front of the Headmaster. Moving with carefully slow movements to make sure he had their full attention, Dumbledore opened the pouch and removed a clear glass vial, two sharp pins and a strip of black silk. He lay them out clearly on his cloak.

Looking up at the pair before them he saw Lilly tremble in fear while James shifted uncomfortably. They both knew what this was. They both knew to fear this.

Dumbledore sat back and gazed at the pair across the kitchen table. "Good evening."

"Going. To. Die." Was Lilly's reply.

"Lill please, panicking is not going to help. It'll only make it worse."

"How can it be worse! You know what that stuff is, don't you!? It's hyoscyamine!(2) Death Eaters use it for interrogation when the Unforgivable Curses aren't working. I reiterate. Going. To. Die."

Professor Dumbledore simply sat back and folded his hands on his lap, gazing impassively at them both. "I am going to give you two minutes to prove to me you are whom you appear to be before I administer the hyoscyamine."

"Has the whole world gone crazy or is it just me?" James rages, clearly terrified. "It's like I've stepped through the looking glass or something! Generally the side of good does not administer pain inflicting drugs!"

"I don't suppose there's any chance it's just water in the vial?" Lilly tried, smiling. One look at Dumbledore's face told her that no, there was not.

"One minute forty."

"What can we tell him?" Lilly hissed desperately. "We don't know what he knows and what he doesn't!"

"Something about school?"

"Sure but do you have something we can tell him that only you would know?"

"Yes, but I don't know if he knows it do I!?"

"There must be something..."

"The map!"

"Huh?"

"The Marauders Map! He must know about it, Filch confiscated it years ago, he would have grassed on us no sweat."

"In that case the dratted thing is probably common knowledge."

"I wish he hadn't sent Moony and Padfoot off upstairs, it would have made things so much easier..."

"You know, I've never understood those nicknames. Moony, sure, but Padfoot? What's with that?"

"Lilly, this _really_ isn't the time...Or is it." James turned his head from his wife to stare into the clear blue eyes of his former Headmaster. He cocked his head to one side and gazed at him curiously. "I wonder how you found out."

"Situations change." Dumbledore replied cryptically.

"So much that they would reveal _that_? Things must have gotten really bad while we were away."

"Reveal what? What are you babbling about?"

"I won't you know. You can use that hydro-whatever stuff all you like." Silence. That impassive gaze seemed to bore right through James, nailing him to the chair. "Let Lilly go. Just take her out of the room and I'll show you."

"James?"

Dumbledore nodded and Professor McGonagall moved forward, pulled the unresisting Lilly from her chair and ushering her out into the hall way. When the kitchen door was firmly closed, Dumbledore returned his focus to James. With a snap of his fingers the ropes binding him vanished.

"I do not believe you are James Potter, but I know for a fact that if you are not, you will not be able to change."

"Alright."

He changed.

Then he changed back.

Then things _really_ got weird.

********

This is a really short part, I know, but I didn't see how I could continue without it becoming cheesy. I don't like writing or reading fluffy reunion scenes much, so I'm going to skip it and you can assume it was mushy and dull.

R&R please!

Laters

Hex.


	7. Discoveries

****

Storm Child

Author: Hex

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Standard

Notes: (1) Just want to reiterate, Lilly is sort of an airhead. Don't worry, she is very smart but with all those brains how much room could possibly be left for sense?

Thanks:

********

It was morning now. Sunlight shone in through the high windows of the Weasley families kitchen, illuminating the scene. At the table sat Lilly and James Potter, with their closest friends sitting either side of them like sentinels, unwilling to let either out of their sights. In front of them sat Ron, a framed photograph in his hands.

This was not the happy scene it appeared to be however. Every one of them was tired and unwashed looking as though they had been through all seven hells and back.

In silence, Ron handed the photo to Lilly. Grinning up at her was a face like a carbon copy of her husbands but for two things. The emerald green eyes and the lightening shaped scar, zigzagging it's way across his forehead. She handed it across to James and turned her gaze on Dumbledore who stood leaning against the mantle over the fire.

"How?"

"I must admit I am no longer sure. Somehow he survived the curse."

"He was a baby! How can a baby survive the killing curse?"

"As I said, I am no longer sure."

"But he is alive?" James asked, handing the photograph back to Ron. "Where is he?"

"Living with his Aunt and Uncle in Surrey."

Silence greeted this statement as both Potters tried to place who Dumbledore meant. It was Lilly who reached the correct conclusion first.

It took them a moment to pick her up off the floor and stop her laughing before she was able to comment.

"Petunia!? You sent a Wizard boy to live with _Petunia_? Oh man that's classic!" (1)

James stood up and slammed his fist down on the table top, startling Lilly into silence. His face was pale and his eyes seemed oddly dull but something about him fairly burned with passion.

"What are we waiting for? If we know where he is why are we sitting about in somebody's bloody kitchen!? We should be getting him _out_ of there!"

"Calm down James," Sirius said, laying a hand on his friends arm. "I'm sure he's fine."

"Why isn't he with you, anyway?"

Sirius removed his arm and shifted uncomfortably, looking to Dumbledore for help. The Headmaster just nodded. It needed to be said.

"I was put into Azkaban shortly after the attack."

"What!?" James raged. "Why!?"

"Everyone thought I was your Secret Keeper, no one knew you had changed to Peter. So when You-Know-Who attacked, everyone thought it was at my urging."

"And the only people who could clear your name were gone." Lilly muttered. "Sirius I am so sorry."

Sirius shrugged but would not look her in the eye. "What's done is done. I'm sure you would have come forward had you known."

"Come forward?" James laughed, clasping his friends shoulder and giving him a hearty shake. "We would have stormed the walls and broken you out!"

Lilly shook her head and stood, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. "I think I need to shower." She said, scratching the back of her head. "And I need new clothes, I can't meet Harry in these old things." She added, gesturing to her threadbare jeans and sweatshirt.

"Yeah, you stink Lill." Sirius said, grinning.

"Watch it Black, I still owe you for kicking me."

"I think," Dumbledore began, glancing meaningfully between Lilly and Sirius. "That a rest and a shower is exactly what everyone needs. Harry is not going anywhere, Lillian." He added when the red head made to argue. "I need to make a visit to the Ministry, I shall return here after lunch and we shall fetch Harry."

*****

It was gone three when Dumbledore finally returned to The Burrow, looking worn out but cheerful. He told them that they would have to go to the Ministry sometime soon to explain their whereabouts for the past fourteen years and to clear Sirius' name. However, he seemed just as anxious to get to Harry as his parents were and so they had left the Burrow almost immediately.

Now they stood on the pavement outside number four Privet Drive, staring up at the house in which their son awaited them.

"My bum looks big in this robe." Lilly said, tugging at the flared sleeves of the lavender dress robe she had borrowed from Mrs Weasley because it no longer fit her. "What if he looks at me and the first thing he thinks is 'man, that's one big arse'?"

"Well Lilly, in all fairness, is he likely to tell you he thought that?" James asked.

"Well he might! I don't know what he's like. What is he like Remus? Is he likely to say that?"

"Evans, relax. It'll be fine!" Sirius said, rolling his eyes at her.

"I'm still not talking to you Black so shut it."

"Thank goodness for small mercies."

"Someone give me a wand. I think some Hagrid style facial hair would suit you Black."

Homicide was narrowly avoided when Dumbledore finally turned from facing the house to gaze impassively at his former students. Both turned to stare hard at the pavement.

"Arthur." Dumbledore said softly, addressing the until now silent Weasley. "Come with me if you please, I think it best we try to explain what we can to Harry before things get too chaotic to do so."

Lilly and James wisely choose to remain silent as Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore walked up the Dursley's drive and rang the door bell. 

It was Petunia Dursley that opened the front door. In an instant she went from snooty lady-of-the-house to clutching her chest and paling considerably. From their vantage point under Dumbledore's invisibility spell Lilly muttered; "I see she hasn't taken to Wizards any more then."

"What - What do you want?" Petunia stuttered, her eagle eyes flashing up and down the street for fear of being noticed.

"We have come for Harry." Dumbledore said cheerfully. "He has been invited to spend the rest of the summer with a friend."

"He-He's not here."

"May I inquire as to when he will return?"

"N-next summer."

"What?"

"He already went to stay with one of his _freak _friends." Petunia exploded, pointing at Mr. Weasley. "_He _came at the beginning of the summer and took the dratted boy."

"I see." Dumbledore replied. "Thank you for your time." With that he turned and strode back down the driveway and out onto the street.

"Where is he?" James asked, frowning. "Is he out or something?"

"It would seem." Dumbledore began in a worried voice. "That Harry has been abducted."

*****

This is way short isn't it? Only a thousand words. Well I wanted to end on a cliff hanger. Never fear, I won't make you wait for an update for ages like I usually do!

R&R please

Laters

Hex.


	8. The Spy

****

Storm Child

Author: Hex

Rating: PG-13 for innuendo

Disclaimer: As Standard

Note: I told you I wouldn't make you wait ^.^; It's not my fault though, crappy FF.Net banned me from posting because they couldn't be arsed to delete stories THEY decided to ban. **Fumes**

Note: I went sappy!

Note: Snape makes his appearance finally and we get some happy joy rivalry. He might dislike Sirius to the point of wanting him dead but that is NOTHING compared to his loathing for James. Here you found out why.

(1) Lilly is a Kleptomaniac!

(2) Lilies = Flower of death = death of marriage / couple. See, I can do foreshadowing too! Not well, but I can do it!

(3) Look! Lilly has parents and everything! Wow.

WARNING: Mention of past SS/LP. Squicky ne?

********

"_ABDUCTED_!? How could he have been abducted?! How could you let this happen?!"

Lilly Potter stood in the middle of Professor Dumbledore's office with her hands on her hips becoming steadily redder in the face as she continued her tirade. The Headmaster himself was sat in his chair, almost as though he was hiding behind his desk. 

Behind her James and Sirius were pacing back and forth in front of the door, wringing their hands and casting worried looks at the large ornate fireplace. Remus was sitting in a large armchair in the corner, sipping at a glass of wine Sirius had not noticed he had.

"Please," Dumbledore began. "Calm down..."

"I will not calm down! Where is this spy of yours anyway? I want my son back!"

"What I want to know is why he didn't tell us Harry had been captured before now. It's been over a month." Sirius said, casting the Headmaster a dark look.

"It is difficult to send information at the best of times, Sirius." Dumbledore explained patiently. "Messages concerning Harry will probably have proved next to impossible."

"Or maybe your spy wasn't all that interested in saving Harry." Sirius snapped.

"Sirius. Calm down."

"I will calm down, Remus, when I know Harry is safe! And where did you get that?" 

Remus looked guiltily down at his half empty wine glass. "It was just laying around." He lied.

"Give that to me." Sirius snatched the glass and threw it with all the force he could muster at the fireplace. 

Unfortunately it hit the person appearing from the green flames square between the eyes.

"Damn it!"

Lilly and James quickly pulled their hoods up to cover their faces and turned their attention to the lithe figure clad all in black now standing on the hearth rug. He was rubbing his forehead and glowering.

"Serverus." Professor Dumbledore greeted solemnly, standing. "How are you?"

"Fine." Snape snapped, pushing his own hood down. 

Lilly, ever vigilant, noticed instantly that his hand was heavily and clumsily bandaged. Silently she took his hand and vanished the cloth with a wave of Remus' wand (which he had pinched from his pocket earlier) (1). Turning his hand palm up she peered closely at the first degree burns which marred his skin.

Snape, momentarily surprised, snatched his hand back. "Who are _you_?" He spat.

Lilly glowered back despite the fact Snape could not see her and grabbed his hand again. Snape turned his furious gaze on the Professor who simply raised his hand and smiled. Grudgingly, he let her examine his wound.

"I take it you finally got my message, Professor." Snape said, his eyes never leaving Lilly as she poked and prodded at his burns with Remus' wand.

"What message would that be, Serverus?"

"About Potter of course." Snape spat. "The damn boy got himself abducted three weeks ago."

"It would appear that there has been a distinct breakdown of communication, we have just now discovered Harry's abduction and where hoping you could tell us where he is."

"I can tell you," Snape said, jerking his hand when Lilly sent a spray of yellow sparks at it. "But I doubt it will do you any good. He's in the Riddle House."

Lilly's head snapped up, her eyes wide. "Voldemort's stronghold?"

"Yes."

"How are we supposed to get him out of there? Even Mr. Moody could never find a way in."

"But," Sirius said, suddenly becoming the focus of Snape's vindictive attentions. "We have the element of surprise on our side!"

"Believe it or not I think he might be expecting a rescue party." James said, pacing again.

"Yes but they also think two of said rescue party are dead."

"Oh I give up! I need a new wand, Professor!" Lilly tossed Remus his wand in frustration. "I should have known you lot couldn't settle your differences!"

"Is there a problem?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly, although his voice held a hint of frustration.

"Remus' wand won't heal Serverus, the owners animosity is too strong, it's contaminated the wand."

"That might have something to do with _Serverus_," James spat the name as though it tasted bad in his mouth. "Trying to kill Remus not twenty four hours ago."

"No, this is age old hatred, it's too ingrained to be that recent. Has the term 'bury the Hatchet' never permeated the Wizarding world?"

"I'll bury it." Sirius muttered. "In his _back_."

"Who _are_ you?" Snape asked again.

"Oh. Here." Lilly pushed her hood back and grinned so widely her eyes were forced shut. "Surprise!"

*****Flashback*****

The church looked absolutely beautiful. The outside had been covered in crawling vines which sprouted large white flowers all around the doorway. The path from the road was lined with fluttering fairies, all holding confetti and tiny coloured lamps bobbing around the trees and shrubs, chattering.

Inside the pews had been draped with white silk and lilies (2) and the isle lined with five archways leading to the alter, all wrapped with climbing red roses and even more white silk.

In the back room of the church, Lillian Evans was getting ready to become Mrs. Lillian Potter.

At least she should have been. Instead, she was standing in front of the mirror staring at her dress. The dress had been the one compromise James had asked for. The rest of the wedding was to be a traditional Muggle ceremony except for the clothes, which would be traditional Wizard dress. A fine mixture of the two cultures.

The dress itself looked like something out of Shakespeare. It was made of two layers, the top of which was white silk reaching down to her ankles and split up the middle to her breast. The second layer was again white silk pattered with silver Celtic embroidery. Silver slippers adorned her feet and long white gloves reached up to her mid forearm, not quite to the puffy shoulder length sleeves. In her hair was a long white veil of lace, attached to a crown of wild flowers finished the outfit.

Lilly sighed and fingered a curl of red hair absently. Today was her wedding day and she knew she should be happy. And she was, really, she was marrying James after all. James was a wonderful man and she loved him dearly, even in spite of his friends. But something was nagging at the back of her mind and she knew exactly what it was.

The door behind her opened and someone stuck their head in. "It's almost time Lilly dear."

"I'm nearly done mum." (3) 

The door closed again and a moment later Lilly felt a hand fall on her shoulder. "Cold feet?"

Lilly sighed and hung her head. "I can't stop thinking about him."

"You cared a great deal about him dear, it's only natural you would be thinking of him now. But he made his choice, you can't change that."

"That's not what I am worried about. Mum how can I marry James when I can't get Serverus off my mind?"

Her mother carefully adjusted the veil and turned her youngest daughter to face her. "Do you love James?"

"Of course!" She replied without hesitation. "With all my heart."

"Then that is all you need to know." She cupped Lilly's cheek very gently, being careful not to smudge her makeup. "Serverus turned you down, it was not meant to be. If you ask me, James is a much better choice for you. Now get your bouquet and lets go get you married."

*****

At last the day was over. The photo's had been taken, the reception had played itself out and Remus and Peter had carted a drunk Sirius off home. Now Lilly and James Potter stood alone on the balcony of their hotel room, watching the sky in companionable silence.

"Are you nervous?" James asked, fidgeting with the collar of his dress robe.

"About what?"

"Well...tonight. Our first night as man and wife."

"If you mean the sex part then no."

"No. Me either."

Lilly turned her head slightly to eye the man next to her. His head was tilted back, making his scruffy black hair slip from his face and blow in the gentle night time breeze. Moonlight bathed his face and Lilly found herself falling in love with him all over again. She knew she had made the right decision in accepting James, even if she did feel guilty over Serverus.

"Liar." She whispered making him turn to face her.

"What?"

"I said you were a liar." She repeated, turning her back on the view and leaning against the balcony railing.

"I'm not lying, I'm not nervous. Really."

"Being nervous doesn't make you any less of a man, James. Don't worry, I won't tell Sirius."

There was silence for a moment before: "Alright, maybe I am just a _bit_ nervous. But only a bit. It is our first time."

"It's your first time, not mine."

"I _meant_ our first time with each other. Do you have to rub it in that _he_ got their first?"

"Oh don't be so petty. Serverus isn't such a bad guy, if you take the time to get to know him."

"I don't _want_ to take the time. The guy is a slimy, malicious Deatheater."

Lilly said nothing, just straightened up and went back inside. 

James sighed. "Nice move mate, great way to start married life." He muttered to himself before following her inside. 

He found her standing like a statue just staring unblinkingly at the bed.

"I've been thinking about him. I was thinking about him all day. I can't help but think it was my fault, that I should have been more understanding."

"It wasn't your fault, it was his Lill. You asked him to choose between you and You Know Who and he chose."

"Just thinking about him scares me. He said he wouldn't let me go and if he has You Know Who's power behind him then-"

"It's our wedding night Lill, lets not think about it. Lets not let Him ruin it. Let's go to bed."

*****End Flashback*****

~~~Author Hijack~~~

I'm one of those odd Authors who likes to explain things to her audience and I just wanted to explain this flashback. It is, quite obviously, of the Potters wedding day. The reason for it is to illustrate a few points. 1) SS/LP in the past. 2) They did call him You Know Who back then 3) They did not know Snape was a spy.

Just to clear up any confusion that may arise bare all of that in mind.

Enjoy!

~~~End Author Hijack~~~

*****

I quite liked this part I must admit. I am rather proud of my characterisation of Lilly =^.^=. n the next part you will have loads of JP/SS rivalry and even find out the Potters jobs. Oh, and they might just go rescue Harry .

R&R Please!

Laters

Hex


	9. Hallucinations

****

Storm Child

Author: Hex

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I am not JKR. Kinda wish I was though. Looooooads of money! (Harry Enfield, very funny man ^.^) I don't own Harry Potter. 

Note: I'm going to start insisting on reviews until I get more than eight! Five for the next part please! Or no updates on ANY of my fics, so there! :P

********

"I've never seen anyone keel over like that before, except in the movies. Is he dead, do you think?"

"We can hope."

"Nah look, the ugly git's still breathing."

"Wow, he really did not age well, did he?"

"I still think he's cute."

"I am standing right here you know, Lill."

"Yes, unfortunately."

Snape, in an effort to drown out the nattering voices, groaned loudly and pointedly. A foot poked him experimentally in the ribs rather harder than necessary. Snape grunted and shoved the foot away, struggling to stand up.

"Are you ok?" Lilly asked. "You didn't hit your head or anything, did you?"

He gazed at her for a moment before saying. "I think I may have. Am I hallucinating?"

Lilly grinned and shook her head. "Nope, we faked our deaths. It's a long story. I'll explain later." She added, helping him to stand.

A moment later James was standing nose to nose with him, glaring at him, his grey - blue eyes scanning Snape's in search of...something. "So you're really a spy?"

Snape shoved him away, his eyes narrowed with unadulterated loathing. "I thought I had at least gotten rid of _you_." He spat furiously. "Fourteen wonderful years without _The Marauders_ tormenting me at every turn and now you're _back_."

"It's a pleasure to see you again too, _Traitor_."

"I think," Lilly interjected, "that we have already established that Snape is not, in fact, a traitor. He's a _spy_. There's a subtle difference."

"What difference?" James asked, his eyes never leaving Snape's face. His hands itched to hold a wand again, just for a moment... "He's a Deatheater isn't he?"

"Yes." Lilly conceded, sitting down in front of Dumbledore's desk and picking up a mug of hot tea which had been cooling steadily for the last twenty minutes. "But he didn't _enjoy_ it like the others did. Still do in fact."

"I'll bet he does." James growled.

Snape was white with hatred now, his hands balled into fists so tightly his fingernails were cutting half moons into his palms. "You don't know what you're talking about, _Potter._"

"Gentlemen, please." Came Dumbledore's soft voice, tinged with annoyance. "We have more pressing matters to be concerned with, do we not?"

"Yeah." Lilly said, sipping the cold tea and grimacing. "Like our missing son for a start. _Thermo_." She said, pointing Remus' wand at the mug. The tea began to steam again. "Ho are we going to get into the Riddle House? There must be a thousand wards and spells covering that place."

"Yes." Snape said, casting one last hateful glance at James before turning to address Dumbledore. "It is highly guarded, getting to Potter wont be easy. However, getting into the grounds should not be hard."

"How so?" Dumbledore questioned, looking intrigued.

"It was my job to replace the guards to prevent the use of Portkeys within the grounds, removed for the Tournament."

Lilly grinned. "Spies are handy."

*****

I wish people would review this fic...It's depressing that no one does. I should give up writing, no one cares...

I know it's only short but I didn't have a lot of time to write this in.

R&R _begged _for.

Laters

Hex.


End file.
